Living With The Scars
by The Phantom Haircut
Summary: What possessed Scar into madness? What drove him to kill his own brother? What is the secret of Mufasa's past? And perhaps most importantly, why is he still alive!


Living With the Scars

Prologue

A cascade of cool rain fell from the sky and onto a scorched land. Torrents of steam rose from dimming embers, dark streaks ran down the cliff face: blood and ash returning to the earth. The battle for Pride Rock had just been won.

Simba ascended the inclined monument before him with a fiery conviction. He came to the top to see the massive landscape appear before him. What once looked a bare bastion now looked like an unpainted canvas, every untouched inch beaming with the promise of hope.

_Remember_...

As though a dark shroud had been lifted from him, Simba suddenly understood. He knew what he was and what he was going to be. He looked up to the night sky, inhaled, and let out an earthshaking roar.

* * *

Hours later, the storm had only grown fiercer. Great claps of thunder ripped through the night sky. Despite his horrible fatigue, Simba found himself restless and unable to sleep. He had meandered away from his sleeping companions and took to wandering Pride Rock. While combing the perimeter he stumbled across a cave wedged at the base: Scar's cave. Unable to help himself, he crept inside. He was unable to shake the feeling that he was not alone.

Bones lay scattered with his paws and above him was a peculiar thickness in the air. It was the weight of memory. Words and images raced through his head. Without thinking he whispered aloud, "Uncle Scar."

"Simba," a voice answered.

Simba's heart began to pound. No, he couldn't have heard anything. He had imagined it. As self assured as he thought this, he didn't dare turn to look.

"Simba!"

He had not imagined it. Trembling with a combination of fear and anger, Simba whirled around. But there was nothing there. Only the darkness beyond the cave's entrance. But that's when he saw them. A pair of glowing green eyes.

The eyes grew larger and a form began to appear. A slender shape, a crooked spine, and a face that knew death.

"No," Simba pleaded. "No, you're dead!"

"As good as." Scar approached, looking more twisted than ever. Fur missing, mane a mess and a dark river of blood running down his front leg. But the worst was the manic look in his eyes. Not the cool precision Simba had come to know, but frantic and pleading.

Simba's pupils shrunk and his fur stood on edge. He crouched, preparing to pounce.

"I did not come to fight," Scar said plainly.

"Liar."

"Look at me," he said, "I wouldn't last a second in this state." His voice was strained and gravelly.

"But I saw the hyenas!" Simba shouted in disbelief.

Scar was silent for a moment. His green eyes wandering across the floor. It seemed he had wanted that very answer for himself. "I suppose it was a final act of compassion," he answered slowly. "Payment for an ancient debt."

"Compassion from a hyena?" He scoffed, "I don't believe it."

"I scarcely do, myself."

The two stood their grounds, examining one another. Simba's fear had passed, now being replaced with confusion. "You've come to challenge me for the throne?"

Scar shook his head wearily, "I've already told you, I haven't come to fight."

Simba's eyes narrowed. "Then why did you come here."

Just then, Scar faltered and he began to cough. Deep wet coughs that caused his entire frame to shake. He fell into a crouch as he finally finished, arising with blood pooling from his mouth. Just then his eyes lifted, meeting Simba's for the first time. His pupils trembled, their depths filled with fear and sorrow. "I'm dying, Simba."

In spite of everything, the young lion felt a twinge in his chest.

"I can't say I don't deserve it," the Barbary continued. "But I couldn't die without someone knowing the truth."

"The truth?" Simba repeated. "What truth?"

Scar approached carefully, "The truth of my life, my past, and your father's."

Suddenly, Simba was filled with a white hot fury. "How dare you mention my father in front of me! How dare you pretend to know him!"

"I knew Mufasa better than anyone else in the world."

"You liar!" Simba shouted, his voice cracking. "You killed him! You murdered him in cold blood!" His ruby eyes blurred with tears. "He was my father. My dad! And you took him away from m-" he halted mid-sentence.

Tears were streaming from Scar's eyes, his whole body trembled to stop from sobbing. "I'm sorry, Simba." He looked now more pitiful than ever. His crooked back bent into itself, his eyes sunken deep into his skull. "I'm so sorry." He began to cough again, the force bringing him to the ground.

The two sat silently, letting the sounds of the raging storm fill the chamber.

Softly Scar spoke, "Nothing I could ever say could atone for what I have done. I just ask that you listen." His brilliant green eyes glistened as they met Simba's. "I don't want to die with our secrets."

In that moment, a million thoughts and emotions filled Simba's head. He looked at the sad crumpled heap before him. His head throbbed, how could anyone feel this much at once? The Barbary's eyes said fathoms more than he ever said aloud. Simba could see the years of secrets burning in his eyes. He had to know. At the moment it was more for himself and his father, but the decision was there just the same. "Alright. Let's hear it."


End file.
